Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I’m Stuck as Their Baby! - Chapter 64
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- Chapter 64 - Chapter 64: A Friendly Visit, Sort Of
Chapter 64: A Friendly Visit, Sort Of
The morning sunlight streamed through my curtains, an unwelcome guest that nudged me out of sleep. My eyes flickered open, and for a brief moment, I allowed myself the hope of a quiet, uneventful day.
[ You’re funny. ]
I sighed. I should’ve known better.
A soft knock sounded at the door, followed by Mara’s cheerful voice. “Good morning, Your Highness. Breakfast is ready, and Her Majesties wish to remind you about your visit today.”
Right. Riven. I almost smiled at the thought of seeing my friend again though the prospect of my parents joining was enough to squash that happiness. Especially considering I’d be bringing along my newest addition.
Smaug, curled comfortably at the foot of my bed, cracked open one golden eye. “Must we visit the weak little human today?”
I glared at him. “He has a name.”
“Yes,” Smaug drawled, stretching his wings lazily, “weak little human.”
[ He has a point. ]
“Oh, shut up,” I muttered, crawling out of bed. Mara and Elira bustled around, selecting clothes and laying out accessories. The look on their faces suggested they were still deeply amused by Smaug’s constant jabs.
Elira held up a simple black jacket trimmed with silver. “Will this suffice, Your Highness?”
I nodded. “Perfect.”
It took mere moments to finish dressing, but far longer to convince Smaug to follow obediently. He had decided, in a great act of dragon rebellion, that he preferred being carried to actually walking anywhere. Eventually, I bribed him with the promise of terrorizing Riven.
“Only a little,” I warned, carrying him carefully under one arm as I exited my chambers.
Sylvithra and Verania were waiting by the carriage, looking entirely too pleased. Their expressions only brightened when they saw Smaug dangling irritably at my side.
“Oh, look at him!” Verania cooed, reaching out to scratch Smaug’s chin, ignoring his snarl completely. “Isn’t he adorable?”
“He’s a menace,” I said flatly.
Sylvithra smirked. “That’s precisely why he suits you.”
I sighed, resigned. There was no winning.
The ride to the orphanage passed in relative peace, though Smaug kept muttering about roasting nobles. My parents spent the journey discussing how best to deal with a problematic duchess who had dared question yesterday’s dinner, casually outlining plans that ranged from mildly horrifying to outright diabolical.
As the orphanage came into view, however, even their conversation ceased.
The building had undergone a stunning transformation since my last visit. Previously a dull, dreary place where hope seemed to come to die, it now stood grand and impressive, with fresh stonework, large stained-glass windows, and gardens blooming vibrantly around it.
“Did we… really do all that?” I asked hesitantly, eyes wide.
Sylvithra smiled indulgently. “Of course. Your friend deserves a suitable environment, after all.”
[ Your parents are terrifying. Efficient, but terrifying. ]
I couldn’t disagree.
When the carriage finally stopped, I stepped out, gripping Smaug tightly to prevent any sudden acts of arson. My parents followed, eyeing the children playing in the newly-built courtyard with casual interest.
Then I spotted him Riven, standing nervously by the entrance, holding something in his hand.
“Hi,” he said weakly, his eyes immediately darting to Smaug. “Um…is that a—”
“Dragon, yes,” I confirmed, ignoring Smaug’s indignant hiss. “Don’t worry, he won’t bite.”
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“Speak for yourself,” Smaug muttered darkly.
Riven paled further.
“It’s fine,” I reassured quickly. “I brought him to…socialize.”
Riven glanced behind me at my parents, who were now observing with amused interest. “Right. Socialize.”
We stood there awkwardly for a moment before Riven suddenly remembered the object in his hands. “Oh! Right. Here.” He thrust a neatly-folded letter at me, blushing fiercely. “I—I forgot to send this earlier, so…here.”
I opened the letter curiously, half-expecting some kind of threat or perhaps a desperate plea for help.
Instead, I got this:
Dear Elyzara,
I’m still alive. I’m not entirely sure how, but thank you, I guess? The orphanage has changed a lot, and the food no longer tastes like dirt. Actually, it’s amazing. I’m honestly not sure whether to thank you or fear you more.
Please don’t bring your scary parents next time. I like living.
Your friend (I hope?),
Riven
I laughed softly. “Glad to hear you’re enjoying the new changes.”
He exhaled slowly. “Honestly, it’s terrifying how quickly everything improved.”
[ He has good survival instincts. ]
Smaug, growing bored, wriggled impatiently. “Are we going to stand around all day, or do I get to terrorize someone?”
Riven eyed the dragon warily. “He can talk?”
“Unfortunately,” I sighed.
My parents approached then, smiling far too pleasantly. “Riven,” Verania said sweetly, making him immediately shrink back, “I trust you’ve found the new accommodations acceptable?”
“Oh—yes, Your Majesty,” he stammered, bowing awkwardly. “Very much so.”
Sylvithra’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Good. Elyzara deserves only the best companions, after all.”
I wanted to sink into the ground. “Mother.”
She only smiled innocently.
To my relief, my parents chose to give us some space though they kept watching from a distance, likely ready to incinerate Riven if he breathed too close to me.
Riven gave me a hesitant tour, eyes constantly darting toward Smaug, who seemed determined to glare at every child we passed.
We entered the dining hall, now filled with the scent of freshly baked bread and roasted meat. The meals looked better than those served at most noble banquets, which wasn’t exactly shocking given my family’s tendency toward extremes.
“Are you sure this is an orphanage and not a palace?” Riven asked, his voice a mixture of disbelief and worry. “I feel like I’m eating food meant for royalty.”
“You practically are,” I admitted sheepishly. “My parents don’t do anything halfway.”
We continued walking, passing renovated bedrooms with luxurious furnishings. Each room was now fit for nobility rather than abandoned children, which earned looks of disbelief from Riven and smug satisfaction from my watching parents.
Finally, we stepped out into the gardens, blooming with vivid flowers and carefully maintained paths. The children here laughed easily, carefree in a way they’d never been before.
Riven smiled softly. “You know…this place is actually pretty amazing now.”
“Glad you like it,” I replied.
Smaug snorted. “It’s adequate.”
Before I could scold him, Mara approached cautiously, glancing at my parents before bowing to me. “Your Highness, the refreshments are ready. Shall I bring them here?”
I nodded. “Thank you, Mara.”
As she left, Riven eyed me nervously again. “Refreshments?”
“My family’s idea,” I sighed. “They insisted on providing snacks.”
His eyes widened in horror. “Are these ‘snacks’ going to be normal or terrifying?”
“Both?” I offered helplessly.
Smaug chuckled darkly. “Definitely terrifying.”
I resisted the urge to smack him.
Mara returned moments later, carrying trays laden with pastries, small sandwiches, delicate cakes, and colorful drinks. They were indeed terrifyingly luxurious, more fitting for a royal banquet than an orphanage gathering.
Riven stared helplessly. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
I shrugged. “Just pick something.”
He reached for a pastry, hesitated, then cautiously took a bite.
“Oh, gods,” he mumbled around the pastry. “Why is it so good?”
“My parents are tyrants,” I reminded him dryly. “Even the pastries fear disappointing them.”
We both laughed, the tension finally easing between us. For a moment, it felt like an ordinary visit between friends—despite the fact that my parents still loomed in the distance, and Smaug still eyed Riven like he was debating between roasting him or letting him live another day.
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